When Salt Loses its Flavor...

The reading from the Gospel of Matthew on the similes of salt and light (Matthew 5:13-16) is a favorite reference point when we want to address the themes of justice and service, of sharing our gifts and talents, of putting our faith into action. We often cite it in youth ministry circles as a rallying cry for the young church – “You are the salt of the earth! You are the light of the world! Your light must shine before others!” These are powerful words, a powerful command directly from Christ. But as I thought about this passage I began to approach it from a different perspective. I keyed in on a phrase that perhaps doesn’t always get the same amount of 'attention.' “If salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned?”

I’m into the beginning of what will become the busiest, craziest time of year for me. Multiple programs with a couple of hundred participants. Each program presenting a different set of challenges and problems. Six weeks of coordinating volunteers, meals, locations, transportation, teenagers, sleeping arrangements. And if that wasn’t enough, there are prayer experiences and liturgies to plan. Prayers and liturgies that I need to make sure are meaningful for the participants.

Now I’m not trying to make myself out to be some sort of superman. I know each of you has times in your life where you have to juggle work and family and activities and church and recreation and major decision-making and all the other crazy things that we try to stuff into this box we call 'Life.' And each of us has periods where all this seems to converge like a runaway train hurtling down the tracks and no matter how hard we try we can’t put the brakes on to stop it. These times in our lives, these times when we feel lost or overwhelmed or spiritually barren are the times when the salt has lost its flavor. When we are so spiritually drained we cannot 'season' life and our relationships with others and our relationship with our God.

The problem for many of us is that this puts our living on the edge. It’s a fine balance, and a balance easily tipped. Maybe an illness, an unexpected financial need, something that comes to us from out of nowhere that begins to tip the balance the wrong way. And we feel it. We feel our grasp slipping away, we feel the foundation beneath us crumbling, we start dog-paddling, desperately trying to keep our heads above water. The salt that we are has lost its flavor.


Sometimes we need to treat life as a marathon. The next eight weeks for me are a marathon. And I know it’s coming. And like a marathon, I need to train. I need to be on top of my planning and not allow things to slip by. But most importantly, I need to see to it that my spiritual needs are being met. Because if they aren’t I’m not going to be able to facilitate the spiritual needs of others. I cannot give something to someone that I don’t have myself. I need to spend time in prayer. I need to make time to have quiet reflection. I need to come to worship with an open heart and mind and actively seek Christ’s embrace. We all do! I can’t wait four, six weeks to do this. I need to do it NOW. I need to build up my spiritual stamina NOW. Some of us have the opportunity to go away on retreat, and we need to take those opportunities. My friend Deacon John Langmead used to call it "retreat to advance." Stepping back, assessing, resting, and praying, and then moving forward.

Now I know that no matter how much I try to plan and prepare, there will be things that will go awry. That’s part of life as well. The trick is not seeing those interruptions to our routine as setbacks. We need to be ready to recognize God in those interruptions. And ask ourselves, “What is God saying to me in this moment? Do I need to slow down? Am I doing too much, trying too hard? Do I need to rely less on myself and more on God’s will? What do I need to do to remind myself that it is God – not me – that is in control?”

In his book “The Cost of Discipleship” Dietrich Bonhoeffer talks about how Christ doesn’t say we MUST be salt or that we HAVE salt. Christ says we ARE salt. We are the essence of seasoning on earth, and on earth we have been entrusted with the work of Christ. We are what Bonhoeffer calls “The Visible Community.” Yes, Christ wants us to be salt and light for the world. But we cannot give what we do not possess ourselves. We need to pray, we need to make time to pray. We have to come to God in worship; we have to meet Christ in the Eucharist. And we have to be serious about it. Christ is the salt that seasons our lives, the light in times of darkness. And if we have Christ in us we can be salt and light for others.

Salt and Light

Reflection - Matthew 5:13-16 and in memory of St. Anthony of Padua...

Today’s reading from Matthew’s Gospel is one that’s very familiar to all of us. It’s very familiar to me because it’s one we use often in the youth ministry community to help us impress upon young people the gifts and talents they have as well as the great responsibility they have to share those gifts with others in service. “You are the salt of the earth and the light of the world” we tell them. They give life it’s “season;” it’s zest, it’s flavor. And their actions can be light in the darkness for those who live in fear and need. Christ’s words to us today are a model for what and how we should conduct ourselves as Christians.

In the culture when Matthew’s Gospel was written, salt was an extremely valuable commodity. Not only was it used to season food; it was used to preserve it. In an era where refrigeration was nonexistent salt was the most effective means for people to preserve their precious food from spoiling. Salt was used for bartering or as payment. The word “salary” comes from the Latin word “solarium,” which originally meant “salt money.” Salt was also ever-present at meals and used in rituals. Having salt at the table gave the proceedings - whether meal or ritual - a sense of the sacred. It was common for two people to seal a contract or agreement by taking a bit of salt - which they always carried with them in a pouch - and exchange it with the salt of their compatriot, thus symbolically intermingling their lives as the grains of salt were mingled, becoming impossible to separate. They would say “There is salt between us,” a phrase still used by Arab peoples today so as to say, “A bond has been formed between us, a covenant has been made.” Even as recently as the 20th century the great value and symbolic power of salt was demonstrated in Mohandas Gandhi’s memorable march to the sea to gather salt in protest of the British Empire’s control of that valuable commodity in India. Many believe that his symbolic gesture of scooping up the salt and proclaiming “With this salt I am shaking the foundations of the empire” was indeed the beginning of the end of Britain’s hold on India. Throughout history, the importance and great value of salt has been demonstrated again and again.

You don’t hear it so much today, but I remember when it was fairly common to pay someone a great compliment by describing him or her as “the salt of the earth.” It meant the person was good, was genuine, was honest, hardworking, faithful. Someone who was “the salt of the earth” could be counted on to be there when you needed them. They spoke plainly and honestly, and their counsel was valued. They set an example through their words and deeds that others tried to follow.

Anthony of Padua was the salt of the earth. His entire life was one of devotion and service. After spending years in prayer and contemplation Anthony was unexpectedly called to preach one day. And though he was hesitant due to his lack of proper preparation, he proceeded with such power and conviction that those that heard him were convinced that the Holy Spirit had indeed inspired him. For the rest of his life Anthony became noted for his preaching, for his teaching, and for his reaching - reaching out to others in need in the great Franciscan tradition.

In artwork only Christ’s mother Mary is depicted holding the child Jesus more often than St. Anthony. This image of Anthony grew out of a legend of someone observing Anthony holding a conversation with the child Jesus. This vision was similar to one of St. Francis of Assisi having a conversation with the child Jesus. But Anthony was said to hold Jesus in his arms, much as he does in the statue of him here in our sanctuary. This image of Anthony can be for us - as Father Jack Wintz wrote - “…a symbol and model for each of us. The image inspires us to go through life clinging to the wonderful mystery of the humble, self-emptying Christ, who accompanies us as a servant of our humanity and of the world’s healing… Another meaningful way to interpret the presence of the Christ child in the arms of St. Anthony is to realize that Anthony was a great preacher of the gospel - a brilliant communicator of the Incarnate Word.” As Anthony carries forth the Christ child, we, too, must carry Christ - God’s Good News - with each of us every day.

St. Anthony, in one of his sermons said, "The saints are like the stars. In his providence Christ conceals them in a hidden place that they may not shine before others when they might wish to do so. Yet they are always ready to exchange the quiet of contemplation for the works of mercy as soon as they perceive in their heart the invitation of Christ." Like Anthony, we are invited by the Word of God to be salt of the earth. We are invited by Christ himself to be light in the darkness.

Salt of the earth. Valued, essential, necessary. Each one of us is the salt of the earth. God made it so. And as Christ instructs us in today’s Gospel, we must not lose our taste, our zest for life. We must be light in the darkness for others. We cannot allow our gifts to go unused or hidden away. As we go forth today and every day, let us be salt and light in the world.